Had an unexpected and traumatic event today.
At the tail end of my lunch break, Manny and I went outside to enjoy the sun. We were the only ones outside on our block except for an older, tattooed man across the street who had just gotten off his bike and was pacing around and acting peculiar. I mentioned to Manny that the guy was acting strange.
All of a sudden he grabbed his chest and yelled to us "Call 911 - I think I'm having a heart attack!" I immediately dialed 911 as we rushed across the street to him. He was sitting on the curb in extreme pain and having trouble breathing. Per the 911 operator's request I asked him what medications he was taking and he said Suboxane, which I know is like methadone. And that he has congestive heart failure. He was still able to talk but was in great distress and pain. The 911 operator said the paramedics were on their way.
He was in such pain so I rubbed his back, told him to breathe, and everything was going to be okay. He then handed me his phone with the contact name of Tiffany on the screen. I asked if it was his daughter and he said yes. I called her and let her know what was happening and the medics were on their way. She said she couldn't leave yet as she was waiting for her partner to arrive but she would check in with the hospital on his condition.
Finishing our call, two ambulances arrived followed shortly thereafter by two fire trucks and the battalion chief. They started talking to him and checking his vitals, placing medical tabs on his chest and hooking him to the electronic machines. At that point he laid back and went into cardiac arrest.
The team of eight first responders went into immediate action. They began CPR compressions followed by electric shock and drug injections, constantly following the monitor to assess his
progress.
We were standing there observing the treatment. His pulse would return, then he'd go into cardiac arrest again, and the CPR and electric shock would start all over. We were there through 1.50 hours of on-site action watching as he slipped away, returned, and slipped away numerous times. They finally decided to continue compressions in the ambulance so he was loaded onto a gurney, transported to the ambulance, then left for the hospital with sirens screaming.
During my call to 911, I had told the operator he was betwen 45 to 50. We later learned he was 61 and his name was Paul.
I saved the daughter's number on my phone so the chief called her to let her know he's in critical condition. Then the chaplain showed up. The chief gave him the daughter's number then we gave him our names and my number.
I was supposed to be in a meeting a 3:30 but it was 3:15 and there was no way I could recover so I called my boss and told her what happened. Shut my computer down and saw there was a phone message. It was Chaplain Ray calling me to talk about "my dad!" Ugh - he had mistakenly called me instead of Tiffany. I called him back and let him know his mixup. Poor Chaplain Ray.
Then I grabbed my tissue and had a good cry as it was all so overwhelming.
I called Tiffany and let her know we put her dad's bike in our garage and gave his phone to the chief. She said they were going to the hospital tomorrow to see her dad and would pick it up then (she lives in Portland.)
Unfortunately, Tiffany will never get to visit her dad as he passed away tonight. She text me to let me know and she was grateful we were there to help him when he needed it the most. Unexplainable that we were in the right place at the right time to be of help to a man who was living his last few hours of life.
Rest in Peace, Paul.
